Two New Works for my Exhibition in Edmonton on June 18

 Three Pears

12" x 18"

Jewel Jar with Candies

16" x 12"

These are two more images of painting that will be in my show in two weeks.  The next few days will be spent framing and taking the work to the gallery.  I'm hoping to paint two more small works for the show  and will update you when I do.  

I've written an artist statement for the show and thought I'd share it here:

Artist Statement

Robert Lemay

2011

The history of still life painting is, among other things, a history of the object and a record of how we consume, what we desire, and what we hold dear.  The current global financial crisis and the recession have left many feeling that the old patterns of spending and consumption are no longer viable.  There is much to embrace in the new austerity. 

Still life has been my subject for 25 years and I’ve never tired of it because of the boundless permutations and because of all the things that objects silently speak.

When I was walking  our dog a couple of years ago I came across a crumpled coke can – suburban detritus.  It’s surprising actually, how many you see when you’re out walking and are attuned to looking for what is discarded.  As an object of consumer culture it’s endlessly interesting.  As a commodity, it’s accessible to most, and people from all walks of life drink it.  When the can is crushed, the viewer fills in with the eyes the parts of the image that become illegible.  It’s still recognizable, however changed.  There’s a sort of carelessness, represented by the crushed can, anger, even.  The early branding of Coca-Cola was ‘the pause that refreshes.’  It offered the idea that even in rough times, one could be uplifted by this product, bolstered to carry on. 

When I first saw a crushed Coke can in the grass beside the walking path, it seemed to me to speak to a disillusionment with this sort of message, even though clearly, the product had still been consumed.  There is an understanding that the world is a much more complicated place than it ever has been, and that the ways in which we consume are also more fraught.

The book series I’m working on explores the structural and poetic qualities of worn and tattered old books.  So much of our experience has become a data stream – we move from iPhone to computer to television to video games.  And while these are all valuable modes of communication and entertainment, they are all very intangible.  It seem to me that the more we turn to digital forms, the more we will crave things that we can touch and smell, and experience through the senses.  The weight and texture of objects will only become more important to us.  The practice of painting itself – this process of smearing pigment on a canvas – is also very sensory.  People have predicted for some time that painting is dead, that books are becoming outmoded – but in fact I think that they will in some ways become more important – more loved and better scrutinized.